


We are (not) safe.

by ZoudiazZoe



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Angst, Cults, Did I say Angst already?, Human Experimentation, M/M, Paranormal Investigators, Platonic Romance, Science Experiments, This is supposed to happen some time around the 50's, boys not knowing what love is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-20
Updated: 2016-01-20
Packaged: 2018-05-15 03:47:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5770063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZoudiazZoe/pseuds/ZoudiazZoe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>William remembers a lot of things. He never forgot, he just learned more and more things. </p><p>One day, Dipper will know what William remembers, although William is already death.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We are (not) safe.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Carole Bousquet](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Carole+Bousquet).



> Ok, so. I'm going to be quick! This is ... was supposed to be a Christmas present for a friend. But I suck, depression sucks. Mostly, I suck, so.... I just finished it ... like, right now.
> 
> It is HORRIBLE. I have to work on it more, I have to make spell and grammar check and all that jazz, but summing something to the tragedy, my Mycrosoft Work for Mac stopped working. I am not in the US for the moment, so I have to wait to update it and shit. The thing is, I really want her to read it before December. So, you've been warned.
> 
> Critics, reviews, tomatoes. Everything is accepted here until I can properly work on this and make it slightly decent.
> 
>  
> 
> After all that speech, Carole. MERRY -BELATED- CHRISTMAS!!! You're one of those little persons one gets to meet not knowing how and is like adopting a puppy (I know I'm the worst for saying it in that way, but I don't know how to describe it either. I'm lost of words). And I really hope our friendship keeps growing, and I hope you'll feed me delicious desserts in the process :3 ... I mean, what? XD  
> Again, sorry for turning this so late, when it was supposed to be done by Dec 25th of last freaking year ;o;

There are just a few things he remembers. He remembers his parents’ hair, their faces are blurry in his memory; his mother had chestnut colored hair while his father’s was jet black. He remembers the smell of pecan pie and the people.

Wherever he goes, there’s always people; some with a gloomy-aura upon them, others just plain and normal. Usually they always looked out for him, they talked for awhile and then everything was black until he opened his eyes again, always founding himself in a place he couldn’t recall going to, or surrounded by more people he didn’t know. Those strangers were always crying, sometimes they thanked him, some other times they looked at him as if he were a kind of freak.

 

He never understood, until long after, the reason why. Not all the people he talked to was alive.

 

 

He remembers the kids of his neighborhood laughing at him and calling him a freak for talking alone; the thing is that he was never alone. Never.  Their creeped out and mocking expressions were engraved in his mind; producing him a bitter taste. He also remembers clearly the day his parents took him away for a ride, they never mentioned that he was not going back with them, and that was the last time he saw his mom and dad.

 

For four months all he was able to see were white walls and ‘gone’ people. But again, that didn’t mean he had no one to talk to; the people shared their life-stories with him, some sadder than others. He did nothing but listen, and the cycle repeated a lot of times more; he had lost the count of it. As well he lost count of the many times he was punished for trying to escape, he never did such a thing —yet the people in neatly white uniforms fed him more and more pills and more isolation.

The isolation wasn’t a problem, the room was pretty much comfortable, white and with pillows everywhere. It also was full of people.

At age 11, two men asked to see him, they took him away. The last day he saw the building he was kept in —and realized it was a mental hospital— was a snowy one. He remembered snow and thought about Christmas. The men drove and drove for what seemed days, they talked little but never looked at him straight in the eyes.

 

The 11 year-old saw his reflection for the first time in so long while staring the landscape outside the car window. His black hair has gained some blondish strands. Fortunately his eyes were still hazel; has the mental hospital done that to him? He really liked his black hair, he wanted it back, wholly black, like his father’s.

 

 

 

The men wake him up, not being able to tell where he is now —or how to get out of there yet not wanting to either —, he follows. They guide him towards a labyrinth, and then to a room not much different from the one he had in the hospital.

Next thing, one man leaves and the other tells him to undress. He stares for a while, but does as told in the end. The man takes his clothes and shoves them in a black bag, then pushes him toward what seems to be the bathroom.

 

“You know how to bathe on your own, I suppose.” The blond nods, the man nods. “Then go for it, kid.” With that the man leaves him.

He can’t say the bath is good. The water is cold and the soap smells weird; still he is glad when the door opens and  the other man enters, leaving a towel and a change of clothes. He doesn’t know what is best, the idea of a change or being able to leave the cold shower.

 

Once he is done dressing up, he’s taken to another room. They serve him food. Not good food, but better than the food they fed him in the hospital at least. Is in that moment when he remembers the taste of his mother’s cooking; he kind of misses it.

 

“—William,” the blond looks up confused. How long has it been since someone called him from his name. “Just answer, kid! Is your name William or not?”

 

“Y-yes, it is.”

 

The man interrogating him nods and writes down something. “Birthday?”

 

William thinks this for a while, chews what was left in his mouth and swallows. “December the 31st.” Another nod. And the man leaves.

The blond finishes his food and remains sat. He doesn’t know what to do or where to go. He doesn’t want to risk a punishment.

 

He looks around the place, the tables are quite big. And he sees her sitting on the table next to him. Her hair is blond, her eyes are blue and shine in a weird way. “Who are you?” asks him.

The blonde looks at him, stands and walks to where he is.

 

“I am number 23. And you are?”

 

“William.”

 

“I see,” she starts to walk away, turns on her heels and says: “try to remember your name until the end. Good luck.” And with that, she’s no longer with him.

 

_______________________

 

The first time he is taken to the ‘white room’ he is utterly  confused. The others had told him about the white room. All of them had forgotten their names, and their eyes had that weird blue gleam. ‘till now he’s met with 12 other boys and girls around his age. Some younger, but they never stay long.

 

He’s forced to lay down on a metallic bed, and then they give him a shot. He’d be dammed if he ever forgets how the sensation of a needle feels. But this shot is worse than any other he had had before. It feels like ice being pushed through his veins, and the liquid shines like the others’ eyes. William is tired, he can’t feel his body. In front of him, number 15 —if he recalls correctly—, a redhead, stares at him. 

 

When he wakes up, he feels heavy. He’s awake, but he cannot open his eyes. They feel sore and sting.

Someone is in the room with him, he can hear that particular noise, that someone is writing something.

 

“Eyes?”

 

“Golden gleam,” answers another masculine voice.

 

“Seems like 33 is a success.” 33? Is that going to be his new name? The blond didn’t care. Maybe they were talking of someone else, maybe it was him. Nothing was relevant, really.

 

After some time, he gets used to everything. Sometimes, the people in there. The ones with the white coats and funny and tired appearances, ask him about the other boys. William is wary about talking, but they reassured him that they’re not going to judge them for talking with death people. He can trust them.

He doesn’t trust them, though. Yet he tells them everything, although for the first time no one calls him freak or synonyms, he is not comfortable. 

 

When he less expected it, he found himself with borrowed books in his little room. When the scientists are not testing, or when he’s not in rehabilitation. He’s permitted to roam the place and take some books. They even gave him a dictionary —which he devoured and tried to memorize as much as he could—, for his 13th birthday.

Not to mention he lost track of time again. But these people have a habit to congratulate him, so at least he knows when his birthday is and how old he’s getting.

 

Days after he turned 15 a new boy arrived. He saw him entering the white room.  He hand’t had a chance to appreciate his features though.

 

“He is a brunet,” William turns his head to look at number 15. She’s just standing there, looking at the white room’s door. “His eyes are brunet too and he is a dreamer.”

 

William frowns at the use of the word ‘brunet’ to describe eyes. He should look for it later, or ask someone. “A dreamer?” he asks softly. The redhead shrugs.

 

“I was a dreamer too.” She walks away. William feels betrayed, how dares she leave him with the curiosity of what being a dreamer meant?

 

For the next weeks, he isn’t able to see or talk at all with the brunet. Both were entering and leaving the white room. One night he hears movement in the next room. He asked who was there but no one answered, maybe it is the brunet, he thought. William taps the wall, no answer. Immediately, he grabs the morse code book he took from one of the little offices in that place, and conveniently never returned.

So, next morning, before going to get his breakfast he leaves the book on the floor and slides it through the door into the room.

 

No sings of the new kid anywhere. He is growing impatient as time passes. The blonde said he was too weak. He believed it.

His surprise is big that same night, when he hears someone tapping the wall. He stands up excited; was he saying hello to him? The boy is a fast learner then.

 

‘Name?’ he taps on the wall, he waits a while.

 

Dot dot — dot dot   dot dot — dash — dot dash — dash dot.

 

He laughs softly, and proceeds to answer, ‘rhyme, our names.’ That is how their friendship started, that was the way they’d communicate while apart from each other. More often than he would have liked to. The brunet was his first alive friend, the first one who didn’t try to use his body to communicate with others. That was a good start for someone like William.

 

 

 

_______________________

 

 

Dash dot dot dot — dot dot —dash — dash — dot dot   dot dot.

 

William blinks confused, rapidly asks a quick ‘what’. The answers is another question; he wants to laugh. Taps quickly: ‘call me whatever you want’.

The answers is a soft ‘Thanks’. William can swear that that was the first time he went to bed with a smile on his face in years. 

 

During the days they’d see each other a lot, they do not have enough time to talk due to what was done to them, though. William often thought that if his friend was in speaking terms with him, and sent a sporadic smile his way, everything would be alright. And when the time to have his body pierced with needles and weird wires, the thought of seeing the brunet allowed him peace and an easiness he’s never experienced before. After all, now he is responsible for the 12 year-old’s sanity. Not that the boy asked him to, but he wanted to; he used that  excuse to keep himself together and at peace.

 

Soon, they find themselves sharing time during meals. The boy has been given permission to stay outside his room as William. William is so happy he can’t even hide it, not that he wants to. He, also, notices for the first time, a faint blue in his eyes. He had thought they were brown, number 15 said so; he once saw so.

William is so happy to share time with someone, alive and almost his age to care for that title fact.

 

“What is to be a dreamer?” he asks one morning, before dropping the brunet in the white room.

 

“I don’t know, what do you mean?”

 

“Well, someone told me you were a dreamer. But I don’t quite get it.” The boy laughs, and mockingly pokes his arm.

 

“And then I thought you were a ‘know-it-all’. Guess age has nothing to do with knowledge.” William frowns not amused at the teasing, he is not really used to it. He doesn’t know how to react to it. “I dream stuff, stuff that hasn’t happened yet, but will do.”

 

The blond stops, staring at the boys nape. He turns and their eyes lock in a way he cannot describe. He feels a kind of fear he had never felt before. He feels peace only looking into those brown eyes. William wants to hug him tightly and not let him go into the white room or leave him ever.

 

“—ly! What? Are you alright?” William nods, blinks and then, nods again.

 

“Yeah, sorry about that. So, you’re like Nostradamus?” is the turn of the burnet to blink. “I read something about that man before. He saw the future and predicted a few things.”

 

“I guess I am like him. Do you still have the book?”

 

“Why you ask? I can always tell you everything I know.” he laughs.

 

“Not that I don’t trust your knowledge, but I want to get information by myself, thank you very much.” their laugh dies the moment they arrive at their destination. William wants to hug him so badly.  So he does.

 

“Take care!” the 12 year-old hugs him back.

 

“You too.”

 

_______________________

 

 

“Tomorrow is Christmas,” says the burnet in a whisper. William looks at him confused.

 

“How do you know? Even I lost track of time.”

 

“I was brought here on January 12th. I’ve been here 346 days, which makes 347 days tomorrow. Tomorrow is Christmas.” William laughed so hard his throat hurt him more than it already was.

 

“I can’t believe you actually are counting the days,” the brunet pouts in an adorable way that William couldn’t help it, he hugged the boy as tightly as his sore body allowed him to. After his best, and only, friend fell William escaped to the offices of the place, it is not an easy job, but he had to do something; it’s Christmas after all.

Most of the main offices were always open, entering is easy. He inspects the whole place looking for stuff that he can use to make the room-cell shine with a bit of Christmas spirit; William also roams for a present. He remembers presents in Christmas, he’s not sure if Santa Claus would visit … whatever place they are in. To be fair, the blond remembers nothing about Holidays since he arrived.

The answer will have to be a no.

 

At the end of the office room, he notices a desk he hadn’t paid attention to before. It’s full go shaped crystals; all of then have tags.  Ten different crystals are tagged under ‘Cygnus’, only four of them got extra tags.

The owner of these crystals should be a really Astronomical nerd. The crafting is beautiful, though. Some of them are —faintly— colored.

 

“Ursae minor?” he whispers to himself, reaching the only blue-dyed crystal “well, who cares? I just need something to give to him and this one looks pretty enough to be liked by him.” William proceeds to open the small glass box and take the small crystal in the shape of a star. 

“I don’t think they’ll notice anyways. It’s not a completed work,” he starts his search for material, once again, roaming the whole place. When he finally is able to find something useful he takes it. So, he grabs as much papers and markers as he was able to carry.

Once back in his room he puts his plan to action, William is not an artist but he tries his best to draw a pine tree on the sheets of paper he, previously,  united using the tape and markers he robed.

 

The boy’s face is priceless the moment he wakes up. William feels satisfied with himself, he handed over the tiny crystal star he stole to the boy; “Merry Christmas.” The brunet hugs him so tightly, William is taken aback and unable to react until five seconds in the embrace passed. Behind them the drawing of the Christmas tree was hanging on the wall, no words are spoken for a while.

 

“I got you something else,” the brown eyes of the boy widen, for a moment they looked sad.

 

“I got you nothing,” is his response.

 

“Nonsense. You’re with me, that’s enough!” they hug again and William had to break it this time, he blames it on the need to deliver the other gift. He would never admit that his teenaged brain was messing with him. “Do you remember when you told me about your nanny?” The brunet nodds sadly. The older boy pointed to his right, “she wants to talk to you now, will you?”

However, William never hears the response, his mind goes black.

 

When he opens his eyes the first thing he sees is his companion with bloodshot eyes and a worried expression; he smiles to ease the kid.

 

“You got another strand of blond hair.” William tries to look up at his hair in a comical way, knowing he wouldn’t be able to, the boy laughed and shook his head. “I think I figured it out,” his left hand caresses William’s hair, fingers roaming through it and momentarily touching his head. “Every time someone uses your body, your hair loses color. Your brows and nape are still jet black, though.”

 

 

 

The following days weren’t as blissful as that small shared Christmas, but they’re still hanging on somehow. William hates it when is his friend’s turn into the white room. The brunet always ended bruised and vomiting all over the place; too weak to function. Those moments were when he remembers how young he is, and William was older now; 16 years didn’t feel different for him. Just a number more added to his lifetime, one year more and one less.

When his turn to enter the white room comes, he’s  already prepared. One of the scientists nods at him, while the blond sits on the uncomfortable bed.

 

“Happy Birthday Will,” the blond nods again, not knowing what to respond. He wouldn’t be able to, immediately a needle pierces his skin. He sees the shiny blue liquid entering his body. After that, the knowing ice-cold sensation invaded him whole, and his vision fades.

He stands, with help, and is guided to the metallic arch; his feet move by instinct, almost dragged. Once under the weird structure he felt a shock of electricity and his cold body became colder; he lost consciousness in that moment.

 

When he wakes up, he feels sore all over his body, a different kind of sore he is used to. A brunette in a white coat is checking for him. He notices IV and other stuff in his body, the first thing he think is that something had gone wrong. The continuos ‘beep’ from a machine indicates him he is, still, alive.

 

“Shh, you should be resting now,” expresses the brunette in a soft and kind voice when he tried to sat on the bed. “William, we tried our best.” With that her face goes sad, he blinks confused just to notice his right eye isn’t responding. He lifts one hand to feel the annoying texture of bandages covering it. That was it, then?

Now reading will be bothersome, he thinks and laughs ironically. The brunette injects something in the IV, before he could protest he gave up and closed his eye. Tiredness feeling heavier second by second.

 

Voices wake him up next. William tries to open his eye, just a little to peek and not give away his conscious state to the men in the room. He recognizes the voices.

 

“After last failure, we should use a millimeter or two less, we don’t want him to lose the other eye.”

 

“Make the test with subject number 34,” are they talking of…? No, they wouldn’t … they couldn’t. “After all, he needs to be asleep while testing. It wouldn’t matter if he loses an eye … or a limb.”

 

William’s body is tense, he opens his mouth to argue, to say he could run the other test with less blue formula. But someone’s quicker.

 

“Why don’t you better stop all of this now? They ARE children.” That’s the nurse’s voice, bless her. “We’ve lost a good amount of children now.”

 

“They’re not children, Margaret! They are subjects to be tested!” answers the older of the scientists. “Besides, what if we stop now? Not that they could have a normal life, all of them were rejected freaks. Boys and girls able to see things we can’t.” he emphasized the word ‘freaks’ with such hatred that William almost felt bad. Almost.

 

“Well … yes, but….”

 

“See? You don’t even have a solid point to come back at me. If we achieve this, Margaret. Imagine all the possibilities.”

 

“What possibilities? Of murdering children with your weird experiments? The only freak here … you are the only freak here. You’ve always been. No wonder the Government rejected you so many times.” This time Margaret’s voice was sour and full of something William cannot really describe. He is going to read the dictionary again, just to try and name that emotion. When a slap is heard, his body goes to rock mode once again.

 

“ALL OF YOU ARE MONSTERS!” she yells and walks doing a lot of noise … what was the word? Stumping? The blond is breathless. “You can take your stupid cult, and you abominable experiments to rot in hell!” The door is slammed, and an eerie silence falls in the room.

William isn’t capable of trying to normalize his breathing, or opening his eye until he is certain that he is completely alone.

 

_______________________

 

“You know?” he opens his eyes, in front of him the redhead is staring into nothing, but she’s still talking. “That blue liquid killed me in my first day … it froze my blood and my heart stopped. I think I was somehow lucky.”

A loud scream is heard and she disappears into thin air. She always liked to do that. His gut instinct tells him to stay in bed, but the screams are getting louder and unbearable, he realizes there’s no one with him. Not even that Margaret nurse.

 

With all his efforts and a little of will-power he leaves the bed and tears the IV tubes off his arms. He walks slowly, but he’s making his way to the white room. As he approaches he can identify the voice better … they were experimenting on his friend! Why? Hi accelerates his pace, falling and dizzy he keeps going on.

William’s heart is beating so fast, he thinks it is going to explode the moment he arrives at the white room. No time to be careful, he needs to man up and stand up for the brunet.

 

He slams the door open, what he sees could’ve left him speechless. In fact, he cannot even think straight.

 

“BILLY!” the only person who calls him that is the brunet, now tied up to that metal bed he hates with passion. Margaret is on the floor, her eyes are swollen and one is bruised badly. For the first time in all the years he’s been there, he sees the metallic arch shining! It is irradiating nothing but a freezing cold and a golden light.

The men, those so called scientist are staring at him. The syringe, which contains that blue liquid, is in the hand of one of them. But what makes him move are the blue eyes looking at him from the bed. Those begging blue eyes.

 

“D-Dylan,” he mutters to his friend. All the ‘failures’ had blue eyes; now Dylan’s eyes are blue and cold. Dylan is not going to become a failure. Dylan is not going to die! 

Over his death body, he doesn’t know what took over him, but he finds himself wrestling with both men. William is weak, but he knows he’s won the moment he, himself, places the needle of the syringe on his skin.

He is cold, he doesn’t know how much liquid was in that, but feels like a lot of it. He can’t find himself finishing.

 

William can’t remember the moment he lost it. But he remembers the euphoria and the panicked faces of everyone in the room. He hears his voice laughing as he has never done before. He remembers a force pulling him into the shining arch, and Dylan screaming ‘Billy’ over and over again.

Confused and not knowing what to do, he tears the bandage off his face. He is not going to need that anymore; his only eye feels unsettled. The attraction pulling him is stronger than before, he can’t resist it. The hands of both men try to keep him in place, they fail. William allows his body to be pulled and everything goes black; at least that is something he’s familiar with.

 

Soon, he discovers he is wrong. Nothing is black, his face is being sucked into the golden light and images rush through his mind.

He sees the universe he’s only heard about and seen in a few pictures. He sees men walking bare food. Cities being built and destroyed. There are a lot of numbers, and every single one of them make sense to him. For the first time he knows what those experiment were about; those stupids believe in a non-existent demon who knows everything about everything.

They believed that they could reach such knowledge by connecting parallel planes; that using kids with the capacity of dreaming, or kids able to talk with beings that are no longer among the living, they’d create a bridge and reach it!

William now knows how stupid humans can be. He barks, what he intended to be, a laugh.

 

“The all-knowing demon you look for does not even exist. Fools.” He says dryly, and laughs again. “But I _do_ know all now.”

He watches Margaret, terrified but still trying to help Dylan. The boy’s crying, but he will make it out. He has to make it out of that place. Where are they? He never really asked that question before. William looks back at the now extinguishing gold light. Oregon.

Oregon. That is like, 2641 miles away from his hometown. He just knows.

 

He closes his eye the moment he feels his skin being ripped away from him. If he does not leave the arch, it will consume him whole. He tries to move, he can’t. It is too strong for him to fight it, but Dylan is waiting for him to go home with the brunette. He tries and tries, he even stops paying attention to both scientists; last time he checked, one was trying to plug off the arch without success.

His focus is on Dylan, he needs to go to where he is. He needs to hug him and repeat that everything is okay and they’re safe. Because William is the older, he is the one reassuring the young ones. It is his job, to keep Dylan safe.

 

The old man, in despair pushes Margaret. William sees in horror how the woman falls again to the floor. Her hands letting go of the 12 year-old brunet. Dylan stumbles, his feet stepping onto the syringes used before, and he falls too. William sees red. 

From the skin that hits the metal and opens, to the floor staining with blood. Margaret screams and drags herself to the boy. She takes off her white coat and presses it against Dylan’s head.

 

 

“NO!” William screams at the top of his lungs, trying to leave the magnetic force that is pulling him into the metallic arch. A sensation of ripping makes him scream more. “DYLAN!” He can’t move at all, and the desperation is eating him whole. The suction intensifies, electricity is all over him, shocking him, making him shriek in agony. A lot of things are dragged into the arch, screams are swallowed by the now dark glow.

 

“B-billy,” is a faint trace of voice, but William calms himself a little. He tries again to reach for the brunet, but can’t. He’s stuck in that place. “We’re going to be safe,” William nods. It feels so bad  not to be capable of doing a thing for someone you care and lov—

For someone you love.

 

“Billy,” mumbles the brunet trying to hold tight onto Margaret. There’s so much blood on his face, William is surprised he was capable to hear him say his name. It is his name being called what brings him back to the situation on hand. He can think about feelings later.

In horror, the blond observes how those —now— blue eyes close, to never be opened again. The woman’s cry is nothing but static in his ears, he feels like crying. He does not.

He can’t.

 

A small blue light is in front of him, rubbing against his cheek. William smiles weakly when he hears that voice calling for him.

“Dylan,” he whispers. “Is it wrong if I loved you?”

 

_‘Not at all, why would that be wrong?’_

 

“I mean it in a romantic kind of way.” Silence follows.

 

 _‘You can tell me that later, you know.’_ Slowly, Will, places his hand under the light-sphere. Cupping it, trying to feel what is left of his precious Dylan. He does not speak, does not know what to say anymore. ‘ _We’ll meet again.’_

 

“You … think so?”

 

 _‘I know so.’_ Unable to leave that prison he is in, William struggles to place his lips on Dylan. He achieves it somehow, and a thunder-like feeling shakes him whole. In the back of his mind he sees everything that the boy has been dreaming since he was a nothing but a toddler. William smiles with a satisfaction he has never felt before. 

 

_‘Billy? What?’_

 

“You don’t have to worry about dreaming again. You’ll be normal.” whispers. “Come with me?” Again the feeling of crying  is invading him. The most frustrating thing about it is, that he is no longer capable of letting the tears flow.

There are no more tears, he barely feels his own body. Everything is energy and cold. Unbearable and horrible cold.

 

 _‘I think I’m staying. She needs me.’_ She? Just in that moment William remembers Margaret. She’s still holding Dylan’s death body and crying desperately. Wrath floods his being, why is Dylan choosing her over h—? Oh … OH! He knows. He knows and understands why, but it still hurts.

Reluctantly he releases the blue sphere, and watches heartbroken how he goes back next to the woman.

That useless, crying meat-sack.

 

“Well well well. Margaret Pines!” The brunette looks awful, in his opinion. There are tears and snot all over her face; the blood is not that pleasant. Only because it is _his_ Dylan’s blood.

She still stares at him with fear and sorrow, and … was that regret? “I’m not saying you’re not to blame,” the woman bites her lip. “But I’m letting you go for now. This place and everything that surrounds it will be deemed....”

 

“William—“

 

“William, who’s William? No, no, no and NO! Call me Bill. You all killed William, and Billy is reserved only for someone special.”

Her track of thought is confusing him. He screams to make her shut her mind out. “Yes, I am cursing it! Take it however you want. This laboratory, the town in which this is placed. E-v-e-r-y-t-h-i-n-g!” There’s a gasp coming out her mouth, and again her thinking. God! Why can’t she shut her damned mind up for once! Oh, wait!

He looks into the black space behind him, he can still see parts of his body being swallowed by the darkness. Piece by piece he’s disappearing; he wants to make things quickly, but that Pines woman is annoying. Were humans always _that_ annoying? He lost track of what he was looking for again. 

Right! God! God? Not result found.

William laughs, how interesting!

 

“As I was saying before you interrupted me,” she opens her mouth but it’s not able to let a single word out. “If you make something to harm Dylan! If you don’t bring him back to me. You and your peers will know what is true wrath.”

A tug on his stomach forces him to shut up. Time’s running.

 

“I’ll be watching you.” with those final words, William is swallowed into nothing.

 

The moment he opens his eye again, he finds himself in a … weird place. But there are so many portals, with different destinations. And as the knowing-all kind of person he is — was! The kind of person he was. He’s obviously starting for the beginning. 

Knowledge is power, right? So, he’s going to absorb all the knowledge left before he decides to go back looking for who belongs to him.

 

____________________________

 

The moment the kiss broke, Dipper found himself with his knees shaking and shivers running up and down his spine. What was that? What just happened?

He remembers entering his room, to realize that there was a floating man in there. A blond one, kind of handsome one. But the moment he spoke, Dipper knew that that man was nothing but trouble. He didn’t even know Bill could have a human … form. The brunet was awestruck, before the dream demon spoke again.

 

“Don’t worry Pine-tree~ you’ll know soon.” and then … the … that human version of Bill kissed him and his mind was full of things he couldn’t understand and … Really, what the fuck just happened?

A hand pressed against his forehead, it should have felt like air; Bill being a being of pure energy and no weaknesses —and full insanity—, was not really able to touch him if they weren’t in the mindscape. Were they? No! His and Mabel’s room was … ‘normal’. So why he could feel Bill’s touch removing his hair from his forehead. Why?

 

“Told ya, I’d find you again,” saying that, the blond demon poked where his birthmark was placed. The smile on the demon’s face triggered something inside of him. Fear being the predominant one, just to be clear.

But, before he could even articulate something slightly coherent. The demon was gone.

 

That night. Sleep deprived, he stared at the wall next to his bed.

Dipper didn’t know what took over him, but he tapped in morse code. He didn’t even know that he knew morse code.

 

Dash dot dot dot — dot dot —dash — dash — dot dot   dot dot.

 

 

The colors of the room changed, and a smiling and very human Bill appeared. “You called, Pine-tree?”


End file.
